The King's Daughter and Other Stories for Girls eBook

“MY DEAR CHILD: This shall be a receipt
in full for all expenses, during whatever time you
may choose to remain in the seminary. This I present
you as a sincere token of my love and respect.

“JEANNETTE GAZIN.”

They found her at dinner time on the floor, surrounded
by her new treasures, crying-like a baby; but it did
her good. She was soon able to begin her studies
once more, and was ever afterward treated with kindness
and consideration, even though all her hair came out
and left her head bald as her face, so that she had
to wear a queer cap-like wig for many weeks.

When the long vacation arrived, Belle carried her
off to her beautiful home on the Hudson, where for
the first time in her life she was surrounded with
beauty and luxury on every side, and was treated as
a loved and honored guest.

It was not long before the hateful wig was cast aside,
and Fannie’s head was covered with a profusion
of dark auburn curls, which were indeed a crown of
glory that made her face almost beautiful.

Gentle, loving, and beloved by all, she remained in
the seminary until she graduated with honor, after
which madam offered her the position of head teacher,
with a most liberal salary, which she gratefully accepted.

[Illustration]

HOW BESS MANAGED TOM

* * * *
*

Tom’s sister Nell was a pretty girl, and being
a year older than Tom, wanted to show her authority
over him.

The boy was rough and awkward, and just at that age
when a boy refuses all meddling with “his rights.”
He would put his hands in his pockets, his chair on
Nell’s dress, and his feet on the window-sill.

Of course, they often quarreled: “For pity
sake, Tom, do take your hands out of your pockets,”
Nell would say in her most vexing manner.

“What are pockets for? I’d like to
know, if not to put one’s hands in,” and
Tom would whistle and march off.

“Tom, I don’t believe you’ve combed
your hair for a week!”

“Well, what’s the use? it would be all
roughed up again in less than an hour.”

“I do wish, Tom, you would take your great boots
off the window-sill!”

“O don’t bother me; I’m reading;”
Tom would say: and the boots refused to stir
an inch,—­which of course was very bad of
Tom. And so it would go on from morning till
night.

But Sister Bess had a different way of managing her
big brother. She seemed to understand that coaxing
was better than driving. Sometimes when he sat
with both hands plunged into his pockets, Bess would
nestle down close beside him, with a book or a picture,
and almost before he knew it, one hand would be patting
her curls, while the other turned the leaves or held
the pictures.

If she chanced to see his feet on the window-sill,
she would say, “Just try my ottoman, Tom dear,
and see how comfortable it is;” and though Tom
occasionally growled in a good natured way about its
being too low, the boots always came down to its level.